


Transit Point

by orphan_account



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ghosts, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Supernatural - Freeform, mentions of suicide/suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:40:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After trying to kill himself, Aaron finds himself tied to a certain Sugden (set after Aaron’s suicide attempt in 2010)





	Transit Point

**Author's Note:**

> So this is set after Aaron's suicide attempt in 2010...don't want to go into too much detail because I don't want to ruin the story, but I haven't marked this as 'character death' because there won't be any - you'll find out what's going on...eventually xD 
> 
> Anyway I posted this a few days ago but I had some things I needed to change around and edit so I took it down, and now I'm re-posting it. Hopefully you enjoy it :)

The last thing he remembered was the car, and that feeling of peace that had settled over him when he’d finally accepted what was going to happen. He’d been terrified for weeks, unsure of what to do, torn in different directions, and then, finally, he’d known what he had to do. The uncertainty of the future, and his terror over his mum of all people knowing, had propelled him into making a decision, and sitting alone in that car, and feeling more at peace than he had in a long time, Aaron had been sure that he’d made the right one.

 

He had _no_ idea how he’d gone from sitting in that car to standing here, in the middle of some strange apartment. 

 

He felt like he should have been panicking — he didn’t know what was happening, and his last memories were of staring at the roof of a car and waiting to die. Instead, while he definitely felt confused, everything felt a little faraway; he felt distant and numb, almost as if he was floating, or someone had poked cotton in his ears, and the sounds around him seemed to be coming from a mile away.

 

He glanced around slowly, taking everything in. The whole room was tiny, a little dank, and very run down. There wasn’t much furniture, and what he could see didn’t seem to be in great quality.

 

So, either he was in some poor-man’s version of Heaven, or some poor-man’s version of Hell. Either way, the whole place looked like crap, and Aaron wondered if he should have ever expected anything else. He’d never had much luck when he was alive, so why should death be any different? 

 

Of course he wasn’t sure if that’s what this was — death. This could be some messed up dream, or — or — well he wasn’t sure _what,_ but he’d never been in a situation like this before. Maybe the garage hadn’t even happened. Maybe…but no, he didn’t think he could have imagined or dreamed up any of that. He’d been in that car. He’d never left this car.

 

So either the dead could dream, or he _was_ dead and this was some messed up version of the afterlife.

 

Huh. He briefly considered what was waiting for him back in Emmerdale and decided that, as bad as this looked, it was much better than the alternative. He couldn’t imagine facing his Mum or the rest of his family (because obviously the old cow wouldn’t be able to keep her mouth shut) now that Paddy had told her.

 

And _Paddy._ God. Somehow the thought of facing _him_ was even worse, and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was almost certain the man had been laughing behind his back this entire time (God, he’d been an idiot to think Paddy had ever been on his side) or because of the sense of betrayal he felt. He’d _trusted_ Paddy, and the man had gone and blabbed one of his deepest secrets, not just to Marlon but to _Chas._ The one person he _never_ wanted to know.

 

He’d believed Paddy cared for him. The man had even told him that he thought of him as a son.

 

What a laugh. He should’ve known better by now. God, he was such an idiot.

 

So. Life after death was apparently very disappointing, but being alive and being _there_ would be actual Hell by this point, so Aaron wasn’t going to complain too much. At least there was a television in the corner (seriously, what sort of Afterlife _was_ this?) so maybe he’d get some form of entertainment here.

 

He walked over, and reached towards the television. His hand went straight through.

 

Well. Definitely not Heaven then. 

 

He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. There was a couch nearby, and he walked over to it and reached out. His hand went straight through. He pulled back and stared at it blankly. What _was_ this? 

 

Was this seriously going to be the rest of his life (death…whatever) then? Standing in this stupid, rundown room, not being able to touch anything…crap, could he even sit down anymore, or would he just go straight through the couch?

 

Brilliant. This was just brilliant. He briefly realised that that distant feeling was fading fast, and he desperately wanted it to come back, because it was much better than the anger that he could feel steadily rising within him. 

 

( _God_ he was so sick of being angry. When he’d made up his mind at the garage, he thought he wouldn’t have to feel that way ever again).

 

Seriously though, how was any of this fair? What had he done to deserve this? 

 

Okay…admittedly, he was far from perfect. He’d done a lot of things in his life he probably shouldn’t have — he should never have hurt Paddy or Jackson, for a start. But he’d fixed that, hadn’t he? Removed himself from their lives, done everyone a favour.

 

Life had been crap, but couldn’t he at least have a decent death? Unless this is what everyone had to deal with, and in that case…seriously, _what the hell?_

 

Maybe he should’ve just left the village. He could’ve gone far enough away that he’d never have to face any of them again. He didn’t have much money, but he was sure he had enough stashed away to find himself a crap place like…well, like this.

 

So either way, he would’ve ended up here, but at least his hands would’ve go straight through anything he touched.

 

No, it wouldn’t have changed anything. Maybe he would’ve escaped the scrutiny of the village, but it wouldn’t change how he felt about himself. He’d done the only thing he could think of, the _only_ thing that could’ve possibly helped him, and apparently he’d even messed that up.

 

He pressed his head in into his hands and sank to the floor. He realised, distantly, that he was technically standing on the floor — and he hadn’t sank straight through — so maybe sitting down wasn’t completely out of the question either. He still felt strange though, like he wasn’t exactly standing on it, but rather floating. He couldn’t quite feel the ground beneath his feet.

 

He rubbed his forehead tiredly. His hands didn’t go straight through, so he, apparently, wasn’t off limits.

 

“Why the hell is this happening?” he groaned.

 

Silence. Then the slam of the door, and hurried footsteps. He got up and turned around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man.

 

Oh. Apparently he wasn’t alone after all.

 

“Who the hell are you?” the man demanded, his eyes wide.


End file.
